In Practice
"
A Tale of Two Fathers
"
I'll never forget the first time I used this way of thinking in a conversation with my father. After forty years, I was sure that he would never stop criticizing me and telling me what I should do. All my adult life I felt miserable during the holidays, dreading these interactions with my father. It was driving me crazy.
I had been studying with my mentor, Marshall Rosenberg, for a little over a year when I visited my parents for Thanksgiving. It wasn't long before I found myself in the living room, face-to-face with my father. He was asking about my immediate plans. It went like this.
Dad: So Thom, how's the organization (NYCNVC) coming along?
Me: Great (feeling a bit apprehensive already). People are getting involved, there's a lot of interest - it seems to be going really well.
Dad: That's great... (a moment of silence) Do you have a business plan?
Me: Yes, we do (More tension - a touch of agitation - I wrote business plans professionally at one point).
Dad: Good, because you need a business plan... Is it in writing?
Me: Yes, Dad, it
is
in writing (I could feel the annoyance rising in me).
Dad: That's great - your business plan needs to be in writing... (more silence). Does your plan have a Gant chart? You know, a list of all the things that need to be done, all the people that will do them and exactly when they will get done. Do you have that?
Me: Yes, Dad we do. (Now I was "on edge"). And yes, it's in writing. This felt so familiar and not in a good way.
The "interrogation" continued. Finally, out it came.
Dad: Thom, all the best plans and ideas don't matter, even if you do get them on paper, you can't just write about them - you've got to get out there and do it! Thom, you really have to get your act together!
Super Slo-Mo
The moments that followed my father's words were different from any I had experienced with him during the previous forty years. I'd like to share them with you in "super slow motion", in the hope it may contribute to you.
Step 1
I slowed down. Way down.
As they say, if you keep doing what you're doing, you'll keep getting what you're getting. After my father "started in", I remembered to slow down so I could
choose
to act - and not
RE
act. Thanks to my studies in compassionate thinking, I was able to notice
three things happening
.
First,
I had an unmet need.
Second,
I had a judgment.
Third,
I was about to get into another fight with my father if I didn't do something different this time.
My challenge was to get centered by focusing on my unmet
need
and not the
judgment
. This was a challenge for me, since throughout my life, I had learned to blame others for my unmet needs. So my tendency was to focus my attention on blaming rather than focusing on my needs.
In my new practice of compassion, I had been working on catching these moments and slowing down so I could focus on my needs and others' needs, NOT the blame or judgment.
To reinforce this new habit, I had given myself some 'keys' that would remind me I was going down the path to disconnection again. I noticed a tightening in my chest - and the thoughts, "he shouldn't be saying that; he's being so critical. He should be so much more supportive than this, I deserve better."
That
was my cue; tight chest and the
should/shouldn't
thoughts.
Step 2
I gave myself empathy. I asked myself, "what am I really feeling and needing in this moment?" I was feeling a bit agitated, but also somehow hopeful. I wanted to be seen,
I really
wanted more ease, and I was yearning for some connection. From this awareness of my needs, I was able to make my choice. I went for connection.
Step 3
I listened empathically. I tried out my 'compassionate ears' - ears that heard
only
my father's needs. This was my moment of truth. In my head I repeated the words, "all acts are an attempt to meet needs. All acts are an attempt to meet needs."
But what "X?$#x!" needs, I wondered, could possibly be met for my father, by giving me such a hard time? I asked myself again, "what needs...?" This time I was really starting to wonder.
By genuinely asking myself and wondering, "what needs
could
he be meeting by talking to me this way?", I was able to see my father's 'attack' differently. I was able to see his actions as an attempt to meet needs. I had found a new way to see my father.
It went like this.
"So Dad, it sounds like you really want me to do well out there and you'd love it if I could benefit from your experience. Is that true?"
He looked confused for a moment as he tipped his head to one side. After some silence, in a tone that seemed a combination of relief and delight, he said, "yes... yes it is."
Focusing on my father's needs changed the moment. Right before my eyes, he transformed from a 'critical, overbearing, know-it-all', to a man who loved his son and wanted to help him succeed.
I'll
never
forget that moment. I could have defended myself. I could have tried to convince him that I
did
have my act together. Yet in that moment, I was focused on something else - needs. What seemed most important was that my father wanted to help me, and
this
was the best way he could think of. From that perspective, I was able to find connection, and for the first time in a long, long time, we weren't fighting.
